“We don’t need him,” muttered Lloyd Fowler, who was seated in a corner. “Don’t get him into the benefit performance. Let him take care of himself.”
“Come right in, Mr. Merriwell,” invited Stella Stanley. “I believe you can sing. We’re arranging a program for the benefit, you know. Shall we put you down for a song?”
“I hardly think so,” smiled Frank.
“Ah!” muttered Fowler, triumphantly. “He thinks himself too fine to take part in such a performance with the rest of us.”
“I rather think you’ve hit it,” whispered Charlie Harper.
“And I know you are off your trolley!” hissed Cassie Lee, who had not missed the words of either of them. “He’s on the level.”
“Really!” exclaimed Miss Stanley, in surprise and disappointment. “Do you actually refuse?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because there will be no performance.”